We sat, propped in our stools at the high top table, a feast of burgers and assorted fries spread out before us. A couple sprites, a pair of apple juices, two tall drafts.
The kids scramble over at the arcade games, playing and shouting about how the pin ball ate their money. Heavy lantern lights hang overhead, competing in vain with the bright beams of the setting sun, which filled the casual room with soft radiance. Long casting shadows dance across the walls stretching to the vaulted ceiling as our little ones run in circles, weaving between the empty tables. Laughter echoing. Paper napkins and empty ketchup cups littered between baskets of abandoned, bitten burgers.
We cut ours in halves in communal agreement, to avoid the overwhelming selection on the chalk board menu that hung behind the cash register. Plus. I like sharing with you.
We sat upright and still. I touched your arm. You rested yours on the back of my chair. The youngest went missing into the bathroom, while the oldest selected songs on the jukebox. He played one of ours and we snuck a smile at one another.
I thanked the Universe for reserving the room, just for us. This distinct occasion, hosted at Burger Stand. Painted, distressed tin signs suspended on the walls, framed our moment. Captured time.
Burgers laid out before us, stood for our first meal, all six of us sitting together.
Our little band of bandits at Burger Stand.